


Fiddle With My Fingers

by orionstarlight



Series: Late Night Drabbles [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionstarlight/pseuds/orionstarlight
Summary: atsumu wonders where he even got it. how did he miss it in their cupboards in the kitchen? when did he even buy it?but there’s nothing to worry about. because it’s just a water bottle and he took the towel — even if atsumu wasn’t the one to give it to him.Kiyoomi touches Atsumu when he needs him. And then those touches get few and far between.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Late Night Drabbles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032969
Comments: 4
Kudos: 103





	Fiddle With My Fingers

* * *

he stops fiddling with atsumu’s fingers out of nowhere. the first few weeks, atsumu pays it no mind. any day kiyoomi isnt fiddling with them is a good day, and that’s what matters.

and then it continues on into a second month and atsumu, while understanding that he doesn’t need the action to quiet his thoughts, starts to miss it.

it’s the smallest change in an otherwise stable routine. and that’s fine. it means more good days than bad.

so it’s all the more confusing when instead of wrapping his arms around atsumu while he’s making breakfast in the morning, he showers and grabs a mug of coffee.

he says his gruff ‘morning’ but doesn’t clasp his freckle-ridden arms around atsumu’s middle, just sits down at the island with a book he’s reading.

but he’s more awake in the morning and doesn’t crave body heat and immeasurable amount, so it’s okay.

kiyoomi stops taking off his mask when it’s just the two of them, and atsumu’s heart does a funny little thing.

and it’s not a bad day, because he’d let him know that he doesn’t want to be touched. he’s good with everything, just won’t take his mask off.

atsumu isn’t going to force it off. he knows kiyoomi needs things set how he needs them in that moment.

teasing is all well and good, but he never steps over that line. so he lets kiyoomi wear his mask and it’s good because at least their fingers are clasped together tightly.

when atsumu brings him a water bottle during practise, kiyoomi declines, showcasing his own.

leaves a dumbfounded atsumu on the bench as kiyoomi drinks from his own water bottle and talks things over with their libero.

he does take the towel offered to him by bokuto, still drinking from his own water bottle.

atsumu wonders where he even got it. how did he miss it in their cupboards in the kitchen? when did he even buy it?

but there’s nothing to worry about. because it’s just a water bottle and he took the towel — even if atsumu wasn’t the one to give it to him.

drinks out with the team, kiyoomi gets up wordlessly, mentions he’s tired, and starts to leave.

atsumu stands up, takes him to the side. “ya want me t’ come with ya, omi?”

“it’s okay, atsu. i’ll see you at home.”

bundled up in a scarf and mask and warm coat that atsumu bought him over various occasions, he leaves the bar.

this is alright. kiyoomi has his social limits and he needs time alone.

it’s alright. it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright.

same night, atsumu stops right before their front door. his keys feel shaky in his hand and his brain keeps going over the facts that have accumulated over the months.

kiyoomi doesn’t fiddle with his fingers anymore. kiyoomi doesn’t wrap himself around him in the morning anymore. kiyoomi doesn’t take the mask off when it’s just the two of them.

kiyoomi doesn’t take the things astumu offers him during practise. kiyoomi doesn’t want atsumu coming home early with him early anymore.

so it’s not fine. it’s not okay. it’s not good. it’s not something to not worry about. it’s not alright.

kiyoomi is sitting on the sofa, reading glasses on, a weathered book in hand. atsumu catches his eyes when he looks up.

his own are swimming with tears and kiyoomi stares, wonders what’s wrong. and then astumu speaks.

“are ya gonna break up with me? or do ya wanna chip my heart away first?”

kiyoomi stumbles to catch atsumu as he falls, freckled-fingers threading with rough setter’s hands.

“atsu.” he shakes his head into his chest. “atsumu, please.”

brown doe eyes crumble in front of him as he wipes the tears from his cheeks. kiyoomi swears he’ll kill whoever planted that seed into his head.

“ya never fiddle with my fingers anymore. ya never wrap yerself around me in the mornin’ anymore. ya never take the mask off when it’s just the two of us.

“ya never take the things i offer ya durin’ practise. ya never want me comin’ home early with ya early anymore.

“i cant afford t’ lose ya, omi. i love ya. please... stay.”

“i–i–“ he swallows, realises what’s happening. “astumu i had no idea. why didn’t you tell me?”

“cause i shouldn’t hafta need ya like this. but i do. even though ya said ya couldn’t always give me tha’,” he says, hiccuping through his words.

kiyoomi’s tears match atsumu’s. “atsumu i distanced myself because i–“ he swallows again. “i’ve been getting help. so i don’t have to rely on you.

“here i am, telling you that i don’t do well with clingy, but i barely leave you alone.

“i love you more than anything, and you shouldn’t have to wear my burdens. you shouldn’t have to restrain yourself from touching me when i can’t do anything but touch you.”

“omi,” atsumu starts, sniffing. “omi, yer so fuckin’ stupid. i knew that stuff goin’ in. and i still went in.

“touch me all ya want. just please. never stop again.”

kiyoomi kisses atsumu’s lips, still wet from crying. it’s salty and full of regret and a mishandled situation.

it tastes like home.

“okay. i promise, atsu. i’ll never stop touching you.”

and he doesn’t stop. he may do it less, or might touch someone else instead of atsumu, but no one gets it to the same extent atsumu does.

he still fiddles with his fingers, but a couple times a month, instead of a week.

he wraps his arms around him on the weekends without fail, not always during the week, if there isn’t time.

he always takes his mask off, unless it’s a strange place and his hand tightens around atsumu’s.

he takes towels from others, stops carrying his own water bottle. he sits closer on the bench with him.

he taps his thigh three times when the night seems to stretch on forever and they’ll say their goodbyes, head home.

so it’s fine. it’s okay. it’s good. it’s not something to worry about. it’s alright.

as long as those touches linger and kiyoomi lets atsumu know he needs time alone, there are no more bad days.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/erissapphic)


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